It was the general
impression that corrugated iron was more or less fireproof. However, it
burnt like cardboard. Ruinous to some as the early fires were, they
benefited the general community, as more substantial buildings were
erected, and hessian shanties forbidden.
After a good deal of unpleasant business over the mine at Lake Darlot,
which the syndicate wished to abandon, for reasons best known to
themselves, I was at length on the road for that district, with the
agreeable news that our mine was for sale, and would soon be off our
hands.
I had a rather more enjoyable journey than my previous one, for not only
was I free from fever, and the mine in a fair way to being sold, but
winter had changed the face of the bush from dull dead yellow to bright
smiling green, dotted here and there with patches of white and pink
everlastings. One could hardly believe it was the same country. Instead of
the intense heat a bright warm sun dissipated the keen and frosty air of
early morning, while the hoar-frost at night made one glad of a good
possum rug to coil oneself up in. I did not envy the cyclists, for
sometimes, failing to hit off a camp on the road, they had perforce to
make the best of a fire as a substitute for a blanket, and to be content
with a hungry stomach, in place of having a meal.
Before the erection of telegraph wires, which now connect all the more
important mining towns, cyclists made good money by carrying special
messages from Coolgardie to the outlying districts. Except where the sand
was deep they had a good track, well-beaten by the flat pads of camels,
and could do their hundred miles a day at a push. Travelling at express
rate, they were unable to carry blankets or provisions except of the
scantiest description, and took their chance of hitting off the camp of
some wayfarer, who would always be ready to show what hospitality he
could, to messengers of so much importance. To have to part with one of
your blankets on a cold night for the benefit of another traveller, is
one of the severest exercises of self denial.
These little kindly services are always rendered, for a man in the bush
who would not show courtesy and hospitality to a fellow-wayfarer is
rightly considered a cur. No matter what time one strikes a man's camp,
his first thought, whether for stranger or friend, is to put on the
"billy" and make a pot of tea.
Arrived at Lake Darlot, I found work being carried on well and with
energy, as could not fail to be the case where Dave Wilson was concerned.
Poor Jim and Paddy had had hard times, before Wilson arrived, to make the
provisions last out. Nevertheless they had worked away on the reef without
complaint, while others around them were waxing rich on the alluvial.
The population had increased to some two thousand men during my absence:
two thousand men working and living in order and peace, with no police or
officials of any kind within two hundred miles - a state of affairs of
which we may justly be proud.
Evil-doing, however, was not entirely absent, and occasional cases of
robbery of gold, or pilfering of tents occurred; the offenders in such
cases were usually caught and summarily dealt with.
A "roll up" would be called, and those who cared to put themselves
forward, would form judge, jury, police, and all. The general verdict was
notice to quit within so many hours - an order that few would dare to
neglect. A case in which this did happen occurred at Kurnalpi when a man
was caught passing bad notes in the "Sunday School." He refused to budge,
and, seeing that he was a great giant with the reputation of being the
roughest and hardest fighter in the country, the question arose who should
"bell the cat." The man who had been swindled was a stranger, and
unwilling to fight his own battle; who, therefore, would volunteer to get
a sound hammering from one of the toughest blackguards in Australia.
The "roll up" slowly dispersed, every man muttering that it was not his
business, and that, after all, passing a "stiff 'un" on to a new chum was
no great crime as compared to stealing gold or robbing a camp. In this I
think they showed sound judgment. The prize-fighting gent, however, became
too bumptious, and was eventually hustled out of the place.
Our camp at Lake Darlot was rather pleasantly situated on rising ground by
the side of the blow; behind us, sheer cliffs of conglomerate, worn and
weathered into queer little caves, the floors of which were covered inches
deep by the droppings of bats and small wallabies; and, stretching away
to the South, an open plain enclosed in an endless sea of scrub. Every
morning we witnessed the strange phenomenon of a lake appearing in the sky
to the South, miles away, above the scrub, a lake surrounded by steep
white cliffs. This mirage would last perhaps half an hour, and was, I
suppose, a reflection of Lake Darlot, which lay at the back of us, some
five miles distant to the North.
Our camp consisted of the usual tents and bough-shades and for the first,
and probably the only, time in our lives we cooked our pots on a golden
fireplace. To protect the fire from the wind, so that a good pile of ashes
should collect for baking purposes, we had made a semicircular wall of
stones. The nearest available stones, quartz boulders from the blow, were
used, and so it came about that we had a gold-studded fireplace! We used
to have a curious visitor from the caves - a small black cat, which was
tame enough to wander between our legs as we sat round the fire, but too
wary to be caught.
